N FORMER times, such as had store of coin,
In wars at home, or when for conquests bound,
For fear that some their treasure should purloin,
Gave it, to keep, to Spirits within the ground:
And to attend it, them as strongly tied,
Till they returned. Home when they never came,
Such as by Art to get the same have tried,
From the strong Spirit, by no means force the same.
Nearer men come, that further flies away!
Striving to hold it strongly in the deep.
Even as this Spirit, so you alone do play
With those rich beauties, Heaven gives you to keep.
Pity so left to the coldness of your blood,
Not to avail you, nor do others good.
IS LOVE and I late harboured in one inn,
With Proverbs thus each other entertain.
In Love there is no lack, thus I begin :
Fair words make fools, replieth he again.
Who spares to speak, doth spare to speed, quoth I.
As well, saith he, too forward as too slow.
Fortune assists the boldest, I reply.
A hasty man, quoth he, ne'er wanted woe!
Labour is light, where Love, quoth I, doth pay.
Saith he, Light burden 's heavy, if far born.
Quoth I, The Main lost, cast the By away!
You have spun a fair thread, he replies in scorn,
And having thus awhile each other thwarted,
Fools as we met, so fools again we parted.
EFINE my Weal, and tell the joys of heaven;
Express my Woes, and shew the pains of hell!
Declare what Fate, unluck stars have given !
And ask a world upon my life to dwell!
Make known the faith that Fortune could not move !
Let virtue be the touchstone of my Love!
Compare my worth with others' base desert!
So may the heavens read wonders in my heart!
Behold the clouds which have eclipsed my sun!
And view the crosses which my course do let!
Tell me, if ever since the world begun
So fair a rising, had so foul a set ?
And see, if TIME (if he would strive to prove)
Can shew a Second to so pure a Love!
INCE there's no help, Come, let us kiss and part!
Nay, I have done. You get no more of me!
And I am glad, yea, glad, with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly, I my self can free.
Shake hands for ever! Cancel all our vows!
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows,
That we one jot of former love retain !
Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath.
When his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies;
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes:
Now, if thou wouldst! when all have given him over,
From death to life, thou might'st him yet recover!
HEN first I ended, then I first began;
Then more I travelled further from my rest.
Where most I lost, there most of all I wan;
Pined with hunger, rising from a feast.
Methinks, I fly, yet want I legs to go;
Wise in conceit, in act a very sot.
Ravished with joy amidst a hell of woe;
What most I seem that surest am I not.
I build my hopes, a world above the sky;
Yet with the mole I creep into the earth.
In plenty I am starved with penury;
And yet I surfeit in the greatest dearth.
I have, I want; despair, and yet desire :
Burned in a sea of ice, and drowned amidst a fire.
RUCE, gentle Love! a Parley now I crave!
Methinks, 'tis long since first these wars begun.
Nor thou, nor I, the better yet can have!
Bad is the match, where neither party won.
I offer free Conditions of fair Peace!
My heart for hostage that it shall remain.
Discharge our forces! Here, let malice cease!
So for my pledge, thou give me pledge again.
Or if no thing but death will serve thy turn,
Still thirsting for subversion of my State,
Do what thou canst! raze! massacre! and burn!
Let the World see the utmost of thy hate!
I send Defiance! since if overthrown,
Thou vanquishing, the conquest is mine own!
The extent and value of Lands, People, Buildings; Husbandry, Manufacture[s], Commerce, Fishery, Artizans, Seamen, Soldiers; Public Revenues, Interest, Taxes, Superlucration, Registries, Banks; Valuation of Men, Increasing of Seamen; of Militias, harbours, Situation, Shipping, Power at sea, &c.: as the same relates to every country in general, but more particularly to the territories of His Majesty of Great Britain, and his neighbours of Holland, Zealand, and France.
By Sir WILLIAM PETTY, late Fellow of the Royal Society.
London. Printed by ROBERT CLAVEL at the Peacock, and HENRY MORTLOCK at the Phenix in St. Paul's Church-yard. 1690.
ET this book called Political Arithmetic, which was long since written [about 1677, see p. 351] by Sir WILLIAM
PETTY deceased, be printed.
Given at the Court at Whitehall, the 7th day of November, 1690.
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